


Gift to the Undying

by LazarusII



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Ahsoka Tano Needs a Hug, Blood, Captured, Claustrophobia, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Gore, Grand Master & Grand Padawan Bonding, Horror, Hurt/Comfort, Invasion of the Mind, Mentioned Sheev Palpatine | Darth Sidious, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, Panic, Post-Zigoola (Star Wars), Protective Obi-Wan Kenobi, Sith Characters, Torture, Violence, Whumptober 2020, Zigoola References
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:28:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26752852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LazarusII/pseuds/LazarusII
Summary: “Lord Sidious sends his regards.”Gasping, Obi-Wan went limp, eyes wide.The darkness was at his throat, slowly creeping up towards his face—...“I’m sorry.” Obi-Wan whispered, heart sinking.But whether or not the words made it past his lips, he never knew.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Ahsoka Tano, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 16
Kudos: 79
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> *waves* hello! 
> 
> This work is for [Whumptober 2020](https://whumptober2020.tumblr.com/)!  
> This starting chapter follows the alternate prompt (no. 6), which is _"Altered States"_.
> 
> PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE take note these warnings before you start reading. This IS a horror fic and contains things that some may find very triggering. 
> 
> **TRIGGERS:** Capture, Horror, (brutal) Invasion of the Mind, Blood, Gore, Violence, Panic, Claustrophobia, Torture. 
> 
> For this first chapter, blood and gore are /not/ featured prominently, but, as the prompt "altered states" suggests, there is some work with the Force invading one's mind. 
> 
> And with that, I really hope you enjoy!

_The images swam across Obi-Wan’s vision, blurred nearly past any hope of comprehension, exuding a mad hysteria that only intensified as the bodies came into view, veiled by the chaos of the battlefield. A chorus of screams battered his eardrums, echoed by the Force itself as the light faded, severed by the twisted barbs of the dark side._

_Anakin, Ahsoka, Qui-Gon, Satine—_

_They were_ there _, their dying cries cutting through the air, faces twisted and grotesque as the darkness played to Obi-Wan’s fears. He was drowning in their agony—reliving their final moments..._

  
  


_Someone was laughing—or some_ thing _._

“Give in to the pain—” It whispered.

It _was blinding him, pulling at his senses until only the void existed, a pitch-dark screen to manipulate at its will._

_Obi-Wan tried to move, to tear his body free, but found shadows encasing his body, immobilizing him. A damp, cold presence bit deep into his skin, its icy touch slowly bleeding inwards with every passing moment._

“Die, Jedi.” _It laughed at his feeble attempts, toying with him._

_Panic shot through Obi-Wan._

_He was helpless, completely at its mercy._

“You have nowhere to run. Give in.” 

_Tendrils of shadow, morbid and radiating a sadistic desire for pain suddenly twisted about Obi-Wan’s mind, pressing at a growing fracture in the carefully-erected boundaries he’d forged and perfected for_ years _. Discomfort blossomed behind his eyes, but soon exploded into pure agony._

 _Desperate for some semblance of control, Obi-Wan mentally fumbled for any_ possible _way to resist._

_He couldn’t let the darkness in._

_He couldn’t—_

_The panic in Obi-Wan’s chest quickly became horror as the shadows began to bleed through. He felt violated, as though every secret he’d held to his chest had been opened to the world—exposed._

_A raw scream, one that was distinctly separated from the others, met his ears._

_Everything seemed to go silent._

_Ahsoka._

_She was there too—alive, and somewhere nearby. Obi-Wan felt his gut twist._

_He had to help her, he_ had _to._

_The Force was dark, a void without even a fraction of light. Obi-Wan tried to reach out to the Padawan, but could not even find their light bond._

_Obi-Wan let out a yell as he put every ounce of strength into trying to free his hands. He was blind to the physical world, but he could hear her—but that was enough._

_He couldn’t move an inch, no matter how hard he fought. Finally, he couldn’t resist any longer and let himself hang, exhausted._

_Panting, Obi-Wan only had a moment’s solace before a sharp pain exploded between his eyes, as if an invisible wire had knotted itself right in the delicate nerve cluster and rapidly jerked backwards._

“Die, Jedi.” 

_Gasping, Obi-Wan went limp, heart beating erratically. The darkness—it was at his throat,_ _constricting_ _his breathing, creeping up towards his face—_

“Lord Sidious sends his regards,” _the darkness hissed into his ear._

_The last thing Obi-Wan heard was the fading cries of his Grandpadawan as the dark side ravaged her mind. Despair curled in his stomach, alongside shards of a cold, terrible rage that further destabilized any semblance of light he still held close._

_Ahsoka didn’t deserve this._

_“I’m sorry.” Obi-Wan whispered, heart sinking._

_But whether or not the words made it past his lips, he never knew._

* * *

Black sludge coated everything, clinging to walls and floor, drawing evil, glistening trails between the set of narrow cell bars that separated Obi-Wan and Ahsoka from the freedom of the hall beyond. Cold light flickered from the very top of the slightly-domed ceiling—a small rectangular bulb rendered nearly invisible by the layers of bug-encrusted muck that surrounded it. 

Obi-Wan let his chin fall to his chest. He was sitting cross-legged near the center of the room, arms hanging limply at his sides. 

He didn’t know what to do—what to think or feel… or… _anything_ . Somewhere far off in a distant corner of his mind, he could sense the light, but it was so faint that it might as well have been invisible. The drugs their captors had used were potent, and downright _crippling_ … But that was nothing compared to what had come _after_. 

Obi-Wan still couldn’t exactly recall who or _what_ had invaded his mind, but it had left him weak and exhausted, with his mental barriers in shambles—vulnerable. 

Slightly dazed, Obi-Wan found his attention uncharacteristically wandering, seeking the small shard of light he could sense—

The darkness lashed out, and an invisible blade cut into his mind. He bit down on his lip, drawing blood, and squeezed his eyes shut. It was all he could do not to scream. 

Thankfully, the pain left quickly, and Obi-Wan forced himself to relax, his nerves on fire. 

_Balance—there is balance in the Force,_ Obi-Wan thought, roughly pushing the sickening sense of darkness from his mind. 

_Balance._

Nearby, Ahsoka shifted, knees hugged to her chest, drawing his attention. She, much like Obi-Wan, was filthy, and bore an array of visible cuts, bruises, and lacerations across her exposed skin. Obi-Wan’s eyes found a particularly deep cut on her arm. Already, an angry bruise had surrounded the wound. It would need treatment—and _soon_. 

Sensing Obi-Wan’s gaze, Ahsoka turned her head and blue eyes, dull with pain, met his own brown ones. Obi-Wan _knew_ she wanted comfort—for him to say it would all be okay; that this was just another mission and that Anakin would soon come to the rescue.

Obi-Wan’s eyes dropped to the floor and fixed on the old, faded bloodstains that they were seated upon. 

This was his fault, _his_ failure. 

He couldn’t look Ahsoka in the eye, not this time. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was no way for Obi-Wan to know just how long he and Ahsoka sat in silence, but at some point, the Padawan slid closer to him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Traces of dark sludge tracked across Obi-Wan’s stained tunic from her hands, accompanied by flecks of blood. While the grime was inevitable, Obi-Wan felt a slight twinge of worry at the red that slowly soaked into the rough, cream-colored material. 
> 
> Brow furrowing, Obi-Wan returned the embrace and rubbed gentle, soothing circles between Ahsoka’s shoulder blades as her sobs filled his ears, her hands gripped his tunic tightly, fingers clenched about the rough fabric.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!  
> This is for the Whumptober Prompt (Day 7): Support (emotional)
> 
> Enjoy :)) 
> 
> TW for panic attack /signs/, not a full attack though.

The Republic had discovered the weapon only days before their departure, a new form of pseudo-biotechnology that could potentially change the outcome of the war. Obi-Wan remembered the Chancellor’s words, and the calmly-stated, simple orders that had spelled disaster for himself and his Grandpadawan. 

At the time, he hadn’t questioned the commands out loud, but rather noted the importance of their mission to destroy the new weaponry. 

What he _should_ have been asking was “ _why?”_

Why him and Ahsoka? 

_Why?_

Had he, Obi-Wan Kenobi, truly been that blind? 

At the very least, he could have listened to the whispers in the Force, and _recognized_ the twisted malice and ill-intent behind Palpatine’s words, and steered Ahsoka away from such evil. As a Jedi, separate from the Senate’s command, Obi-Wan could have argued to go alone, sparing Ahsoka from the hell that followed. 

But it was done—the mistakes and catastrophic oversights sealed away in time, forever. 

Obi-Wan and Ahsoka were, quite likely, already dead to the world, either listed as "missing in action" by the Chancellor, or already condemned that way by the traitorous surface-dwellers who had lured them in. 

To make matters worse, not a single word had been spoken to Anakin on the matter--not in person, at least. The Jedi had been conveniently radio-silent, far off on the other side of the galaxy, working to turn the tide on a losing battleground. 

In spite of all the darkness, however, one small shred of mystery had revealed itself: the Sith Lord. 

_Palpatine._

There hadn’t been any surprise in Obi-Wan once he heard the truth, only grim acceptance that was soon followed by a rather unsettling, sinking feeling of despair. It made _too much_ sense; given the man’s history with Anakin, it didn’t take a genius to realize the true motives of the Sith’s actions. 

Anakin was alone now. 

Isolated… and _vulnerable_.

And Obi-Wan's realization that he'd failed to protect his former-apprentice hurt like a bitter, cold dagger to the chest. 

* * *

There was no way for Obi-Wan to know just how long he and Ahsoka sat in silence, but at some point, the Padawan slid closer to him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Traces of dark sludge tracked across Obi-Wan’s stained tunic from her hands, accompanied by flecks of blood. While the grime was inevitable, Obi-Wan felt a slight twinge of worry at the red that slowly soaked into the rough, cream-colored material. 

Brow furrowing, Obi-Wan returned the embrace and rubbed gentle, soothing circles between Ahsoka’s shoulder blades as her sobs filled his ears, her hands gripped his tunic tightly, fingers clenched about the rough fabric. After a few seconds, Obi-Wan felt her lean into him, limp in his arms, exhausted. 

An echo of the same, aching tiredness, washed through his own body. 

They'd been in captivity for days now. Or had it only been hours? Weeks? Obi-Wan didn't know. But time didn't seem to matter here nearly as much as the resilience of their own bodies—something that was certainly beginning to diminish. They were weakening, the constant, relentless presence of the dark side wearing down at their stamina with every passing minute... 

“I’m sorry, Master,” Ahsoka whispered. “I know I should be strong, that I shouldn't feel like this—just... I feel so _useless._ Those… _things_ … they—”

She exhaled, shaking, and Obi-Wan didn’t need to have the Force to know that she was beginning to slide into a state of panic. “If I hadn’t been caught by them—I thought those people needed help, that the technology was going to hurt them, not—” 

“You are _not_ to blame for this, Ahsoka,” Obi-Wan cut her off, shaking his head. “It’s not your fault that we were taken by surprise. Neither of us knew this would happen— _or_ that the technology was a fake.”

He paused, and let his chin dip slightly, eyes falling shut. When he next spoke, his voice was heavy. “This was a trap from the beginning, Ahsoka. Whoever those people were—they _planned_ for us to be caught and knew our every move. They knew that we will rescue civilians in danger, even if we don't know who they are. I thought the tech was going to kill them too... This was Palpatine’s game from the beginning, and I’m afraid the Jedi walked right into it.” 

The unsaid, 'and _we_ walked into it,' hung heavy in the air.   
  


||

The sound of a lock being roughly dragged back echoed through the chamber, and Ahsoka immediately drew back. Obi-Wan tensed, going into high alert, eyes fixed on the heavy cell door. 

Two figures entered, both dressed in layers of heavy purple robes. From the cold lighting of the cell, multicolored jewels glittered on many-fingered hands as they glided across the doorframe. Matching circular masks seemed to glow against the dark walls, gently curved and bearing faint red highlights. 

It was impossible to tell who or _what_ they were; Obi-Wan certainly didn’t have a clue. All he _did_ know was that his senses were screaming that they were unnatural, that the darkness that he’d sensed earlier was a part of them. 

Both figures came to a halt several feet away, and Obi-Wan suddenly had the terrible feeling that he and Ahsoka were being scrutinized. 

He narrowed his eyes as the closer of the two figures extended a hand. 

And then it hit him. 

Instantly, Obi-Wan felt his body stiffen, unseen forces clamping down around his limbs as the odd sensation of him being forcibly lifted into the air sent Obi-Wan's vision spinning. He heard a soft intake of breath nearby and looked over to Ahsoka in the same situation—suspended off the ground, immobile. 

“What do you want from us?” Obi-Wan demanded. “What—“ 

The figure standing farther back made a soft hissing sound, cutting him off with an incoherent exclamation of sorts. The other, the Force-user, shook its head, its free hand waving at its partner dismissively. 

Obi-Wan closed his eyes and listened to the odd exchange. It seemed unlikely that he would receive any sort of definite answer from either being. His head was throbbing, and the upper part of his spine burned terribly as though he’d stayed in a truly horrible position for hours on end… 

At some point the speech stopped, and Obi-Wan felt his body being moved through the air. Eyes flying open, his expression hardened, gaze boring into the empty eye sockets of the creature holding him. The figure stared back impassively and raised its hand higher into the air. 

Obi-Wan was about to make a rather sarcastic comment about the situation when something terrible, cold, and damp, brushed against his right hand, causing goosebumps to erupt across his skin. He shivered, eyes going wide. 

Tongues of pitch-dark sludge, the same suspicious muck that coated the wall, were extending out towards his body, arcing above him like the maw of some giant, terrible beast. 

Nearby, Ahsoka was fighting it, teeth gritted as she raged against the creature’s invisible hold on her. Obi-Wan watched in horror as a small tendril of the black substance moved towards her face and, faster than Obi-Wan could blink, wrapped itself about her throat. Obi-Wan’s lip curled as a small thread of rage blossomed in the back of his mind.

“Let her go,” he hissed. 

The figures only stared back, mute. 

Cold ran crept up Obi-Wan’s chest, and as the dark substance advanced its way up his body. It had already encased his legs, glistening in the low lighting. 

“What do you want with us?” His voice was hard. “Why are you keeping us here?” 

This time, the they reacted, both figures exchanging glances. The one farther away nodded. 

_“Sacrifice.”_

Obi-Wan knew that it was one of them speaking, but could not make out _which_ one. The voice sounded like it was emanating from behind him—as if someone were standing just behind him, invisible. Chills ran down Obi-Wan’s spine and he fought the whisper of fear that made its way through his mind. Whatever they were, the figures seemed _old_ , a deep, sinister presence hanging about their bodies... 

The blank, dark eyes of closer figure’s mask seemed to flicker and swim, changing shape. Even as Obi-Wan stared his vision seemed to tunnel, pulled into the hypnotic dance of the empty eye sockets. 

_“We cannot choose. Decide.”_

“Decide what?” Ahsoka’s voice, dripping with acid, seemed to echo far off in the distance. All sense of fear and uncertainty was absent from her tone. 

Both masks turned towards Obi-Wan, their empty gaze fixed on his face. 

_“We do as Lord Sidious commands, Jedi. Choose.”_

“I don’t understand.” Ahsoka was speaking, but somehow her voice registered differently in Obi-Wan's ears, faded and sounding far younger... 

The cold tendril of darkness reached Obi-Wan’s throat and began to move up over his face, caressing his cheek with its icy touch before moving across his vision. The terrible whispering returned, creeping past his shattered mental barriers for a second time. He could hear Ahsoka calling his name... 

Obi-Wan’s head fell forwards, vision spinning. 

_“Do it, Jedi—”_

_“Choose.”_

_“Who dies first—“_

  
  
  


_“Choose.”_

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!  
> This is a multi-chapter work, and not a collection of oneshots, so I will be updating as the rest of the corresponding days come :)) 
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr [here](https://lazarusii.tumblr.com/) :))
> 
> Thank you again for reading 💖  
> And I really hope you enjoyed this first chapter!  
> May the Force be with you!


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